


early morning grumpiness

by orphan_account



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-29
Updated: 2014-03-29
Packaged: 2018-01-17 11:02:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1385227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras and Grantaire get really grumpy in the mornings. Cue Combeferre sighing forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	early morning grumpiness

Grantaire groaned at the sudden rush of cool air against his back, pressing himself closer to Combeferre in an attempt to evade the sudden change in temperature. He felt movement behind him, the mattress sinking under the weight of what he assumed was Enjolras’ sleep-deprived body. 

He nuzzled his face into Combeferre’s chest, eager to slip back into the unconscious state that he had so thoroughly been enjoying before the rude interruption. He smiled to himself as he heard a soft hum rumble through Combeferre’s body, who pulled Grantaire into a lazy bear hug.

Cold fingers pressing into his side squashed any hopes he had of falling back to sleep quickly; he was wide awake, a noise of protest slipping from his lips as he rolled over. He found a disgruntled Enjolras staring back at him.

“Are you seriously only going to bed now?” Grantaire asked.

“I had a lot to do,” Enjolras replied, tugging the blanket away from Grantaire.

Grantaire only grunted in response and rolled over, bringing most of the blanket with him. He tangled himself around a softly snoring Combeferre.

“Grantaire, stop hogging the blanket,” Enjolras hissed.

“You’re too cold,” he mumbled.

“That’s why I need a fucking blanket,” Enjolras said through gritted teeth. Grantaire could feel his glare boring into his back, and took that as incentive to get even closer to Combeferre.

“Mmmf wha’s goin on?” Combeferre’s eyes opened at the sounds of their hushed arguing. 

“Enjolras is being annoying,” Grantaire said, refusing to give up his hold on the blanket.

“I hate you.” 

“No you don’t.”

“You both need to stop,” Combeferre grabbed his glasses from the bedside table, propping himself up on his elbows to look at the two of them. 

“He started it,” Enjolras grumbled through his futile attempts to tug the blanket away from Grantaire. 

“You are acting like children,” the angry glint in Combeferre’s eyes was enough to silence them. He stretched one arm out to pluck his phone off the small table, “I have to get ready for class.”

“No, don’t go,” Grantaire whined as Combeferre swung his legs over the side of the bed and stepped out of reach.

“I have to,” he leaned over the bed, pressing a soft kiss to Grantaire’s forehead.

The bickering resumed as he walked into the bathroom to get ready, and continued for the fifteen minutes it took him to get dressed and eat a hurried breakfast. He slung his bag over one shoulder and stood at the end of the bed, an extra blanket in his hands, looking down at his boyfriends.

“I’ll be back in a few hours,” he raised his eyebrows in amusement at the pouts on both of their faces, “Be nice.” He threw the blanket over Enjolras, who muttered a grouchy ‘Thank you’, and walked out the door.  
—-  
Combeferre dropped his backpack beside the front door and slipped out of his shoes when he got home later that afternoon, listening for the sounds of lively conversation or heated argument that usually filled the air. He walked through the apartment, stopping in the kitchen for a glass of water, and into the bedroom.  
Enjolras and Grantaire were curled up in the center of the bed, wrapped in the two blankets. Grantaire’s head was tucked under Enjolras’ chin, and Enjolras had one hand tangled in the other man’s hair. Four feet peeked out from under the blankets.

Combeferre smiled at the sight, so peaceful compared to that morning. He placed his glass on a coaster on the nightstand, and traded his jeans for track pants before climbing into bed behind Grantaire. Grantaire mumbled to himself, burying his face in Enjolras’ neck and sighing as Combeferre slipped under the blankets and gently put one arm around him, taking one of Enjolras’ hands in his own.

He was asleep within minutes.


End file.
